Ondine Read Online Free PDF Page B

tight. She might have died instantly, entering what great chasm she did not know. Or perhaps she might have strangled slowly, knowing horrible agony as the sunshine paled to webbed shades of gray.
    And this little man, this ugly little gnome of a man, had come to save her. She began to feel guilty, knowing that he was a good man and not a cruel one, and that despite his kindness, she would have to leave him, too. If he was serious, if she managed to live!
    “Sir,” she said loudly for the benefit of the crowd, for she could, at the very least, commend his kindness to those who mocked him. “I would gladly wed a beast of the forest, a dragon or a toad, so dear to me is life. I should be forever grateful to call you husband, for you are none of those, but a man of greater mercy than any who calls himself gentleman here.”
    The jackanapes smiled at her reply, then chuckled softly. “‘Tis no toad you’ll be receiving, but some might say as that ye have joined up with a beast of the forest—or a dragon, mayhaps. ‘Tis not me ye’ll be marryin’, girl.”
    “Here! Here!” the magistrate protested. “The law does not hold for you to take the girl away for another! You wed her here and now, as is the law, or she swings—”
    “Stop!” was suddenly roared in interruption. “If you must bluster out the law, I charge you to uphold it!”
    The voice, coming from the rear of the crowd, was deep and sure, accustomed to authority and brooking no opposition. Ondine frowned, trying to stare through the crowd and discover the speaker.
    Then the crowd began to mumble softly and give way to the num. Ondine emitted a little gasp when she saw him, for he watt not one of the common crowd.
    He was a tall man and appeared to be more so because he was lean, and his clothing—tailored tight-fitting breeches, elegant ruffled white shirt and frock coat—clung to the handsomely pro-portioned muscles with a negligent flare. He was obviously of the aristocracy, but though he had condescended to the ruffled shirt, there was nothing else frilled about him. His hair was a tawny color, not at all curled, but clubbed severely at his nape. He wore no beard or mustache, and though his features were handsome— his cheekbones high, his nose long and straight, his eyes large and wide set beneath arched chestnut brows—he had a look about him that was unnerving. His face was … hard. But something about his eyes was chilling. Ondine thought, surprised that she could think this at such a time. They were bright, sharp, alert, and thickly fringed with lashes, but like his features, they were hard.
    And, apparently, they made as much an impression on the magistrate as they did upon her, for he stepped away from the cart as the man stepped forward. It was not just that the man was obviously of the nobility, it was the threat he offered as a man. His appearance was arresting and promised an uncompromising danger, should he be crossed.
    Ondine saw a glimpse of warmth about him as he nodded briefly to the little jackanapes, a single brow raising as if the two exchanged a thought, the thought being that the magistrate was a man contemptible, beneath dung. A slight smile seemed to tug at his lips, but it vanished quickly so that she thought she might well have imagined it.
    “I am the man who wishes to wed her—here, and according to the law. I wish to speak to the girl myself,” he said, and without awaiting a reply, he turned to Ondine. She noted that he blinked briefly, offended by her scent, but then he proceeded to speak.
    “What was your crime, girl?”
    She hesitated only briefly. “I killed a deer.”
    His brow knit into an incredulous frown. “You’re about to hang for killing a deer?”
    “Aye, my lord, and it should not surprise you,” she heard herself say bitterly. “The deer belonged to a certain Lord Lovett— or at least it lived upon his property. ‘Tis your kind that has sent me here.” Her own kind, she reminded herself